Please Hang On, Never Let Go
by xXxThe Phantom's RosexXx
Summary: Mike's drug problem is begining to worsen and the whole family is feeling the weight of his problem - especially Carol. Will she be able to help her brother? Will the family survive? Or is it too late for them all?
1. Thunder

A while back I posted this story on here and it didn't get very good response so I am redoing it and posting it once again

_**A while back I posted this story on here and it didn't get very good response so I am redoing it and posting it once again. I hope you enjoy it as much as I am enjoying writing it. Anyways, the summary. This story is about Mike Seaver and Carol. Mike is having problems with drugs and alcohol. He no longer comes home at night and Carol feels as if the brother she once loved and admired no longer exists. What will it take to save Mike and his relationship with his family? Will anything be able to save them? Or is it far too late? Disclaimer: I don't own Growing Pains and reviews are the Tom Hanson to my Jump Street so please review. It puts a smile on my face. **_

Chapter One – Thunder

_Carol Margaret Seaver awoke with a start when a crash of thunder sounded out side her window. The rain pounded menacingly at the window and lightning flashed causing seven year old Carol to jump from her bed. She grabbed her teddy bear and made her way down the hallway to the one room where she knew she'd be safe. When she reached his bedroom, she knocked on the door. A few moments later – after a few grunts and groans – Mike Seaver opened his bedroom door. He rubbed his eyes and looked surprised to see his little sister standing there._

_"I couldn't sleep," she looked up at him with her big brown eyes._

_"Why not?" Mike asked._

_"The storm. It's scarrry."_

_"It isn't that scary," Mike said, trying to sound tough. The truth was, he actually couldn't sleep either; but why let his little sister know that?_

_"Yes it is. The thunder…"_

_"Aw don't worry about that thunder. Thunder isn't anything to be scared of. It's just the clouds moving around up in the sky…"_

_"But it makes an awful sound!" Carol's big brown eyes grew moist and Mike felt his heart ache. Why did her big brown eyes always get him like that?_

_"Alright, you know what, come here," he opened the door allowing her access to his room, "Here, sleep in my bed tonight. I'll sleep on the floor. I won't let the thunder scare you in here."_

_"Thanks, Mikey."_

_"Car-rol!" Mike groaned, "What have I told you about calling me that?"_

_"I don't 'member," Carol said, snuggling under his covers._

_"Fine," Mike looked over at his sister, "Sleep tight, and don't let the bed bugs bite!" he began tickling her._

_"Mikey!' she screamed. _

_"I told you not to call me that!' he tickled her some more. After a few moments he stopped._

_"Goodnight, Mike," Carol said._

_"Goodnight, Carol."_

_"Oh, Mike?"_

_"Yeah?"_

_"I love you."_

_"I love you too," Mike said and lay down on the floor._

Carol Seaver awoke with a start as thunder boomed right outside her window. She grabbed her teddy bear and held it tight to her chest. She remembered a time when she had been younger during a storm and had gone to Mike's room. He had said he would protect her and had allowed her to sleep in his bed. He had also said he loved her. Carol rolled her eyes. Must have been a dream, she thought, Mike would never do something like that – ever! But as much as she tried to convince herself it was only a dream she knew it had happened once upon a time, a long time ago, a time when Mike Seaver actually cared about his younger sister. Carol rolled over and covered her head with her pillow and attempted going back to sleep.


	2. Just Another Morning

Chapter Two – Just Another Morning

Chapter Two – Just Another Morning

Carol woke up early the next morning. It was still raining. After getting dressed and putting on her makeup to make her look as if she had gotten at lease some sleep she went downstairs. It was the usual scene when she walked down stairs. Mom was at the counter cleaning up the dishes she used to cook breakfast, Dad was sitting at the table reading his newspaper, Ben was shoveling spoonfuls of egg into his mouth, and Mike was gone. Carol tired not to appear too worried; after all, he hardly ever was home any more – especially in the mornings. As much as her parents tried to hide it, Carol knew her older brother didn't come home most nights.

"Good morning, sweetie!" Mrs. Seaver said, trying to appear cheery. Carol wanted to scream or throw something at her – or both. How dare she stand there cleaning and acting all cheery when her oldest son hadn't come home and could be dead in a ditch somewhere! Carol had begun to think she was the only one that was really concerned about Mike.

"Hi, Mom," she put on her best fake smile – she was used to fake smiles by now, "How did you sleep?"

"Pretty well, and you? That storm didn't keep you up too much did it?"

"No," Carol had also mastered the art of lying with the art of fake smiles.

"Well that's good. Do you want some pancakes and eggs?"

"No thanks, Mom," Carol grabbed an apple out of the fruit bowl on the table, "I'll just have this if you don't mind."

"Carol, you really should eat something," Dad stepped in.

"It's alright. I'm not hungry any…" Carol was interrupted by the back door opening and her older brother Mike Seaver slumping in. His brown jacket was sagging off his left shoulder, there was a stain on his bright blue shirt, and his hair was rumpled. Carol's heart ached to see her brother looking this bad. She longed to run to him and hug him but she knew it would only result in him yelling and cursing her.

"Mike!" Mrs. Seaver ran over to her son, "What happened?"

"Hm?" He shrugged his reply, "I…I don't 'member?"  
"Mike, go upstairs and change," Mr. Seaver said, not even looking up from his paper, "We'll send some coffee up in a little bit."

"Thanks, Dad," Mike said and walked toward the stairs. Carol heard a thump and a grunt. He had tripped.

"Dad, shouldn't we do something?" Ben asked.

"Do what?" Mr. Seaver asked his son, "It won't do anything. He doesn't want help."

Carol sighed as she bit into her apple. It was just another morning at the Seaver house. She glanced up at the clock on the wall. She and Mike only had a few more minutes before leaving for school. She longed to go into his room and check on him, ask him if he was o.k. but she knew that wasn't possible. She wasn't ever allowed into Mike's room. No one was except maybe for their dad but that was only when he threatened to knock the door down.

"Carol, you better go brush finish getting ready. Ten minutes until you have to leave," Maggie Seaver warned her daughter.

Carol put down the apple which she had only taken two bites from and headed upstairs to her room. As she passed Mike's, she almost considered knocking on the door. After all, all she would have to tell him was that they had ten minutes before school…if he was even going to go. Mike had the habit of somehow disappearing between getting off the bus and going into the school. Carol finally worked up the courage and raised her fist to the door.

"Who is it?" Mike snarled from within the room.

"Me. Carol."

"Go away!"

"Mike…I-I was just wondering if you were coming to school today?" Carol asked, her voice shaking.

"How is that any of your business, Carol?" Mike asked, spitting out her name as if it acid in his mouth.

"It-it isn't."

There was a long pause and Carol was beginning to feel as if he had just brushed her off completely. As she was about to turn and head down the hall to her room, the door opened.

"Hey Carol, wanna see somethin'?" Mike asked. Something in his voice made Carol uneasy but she nodded and ducked underneath his arm and into his room, "Come 'ere. Sit down," Mike patted his mattress and Carol sat down next to him. Maybe he had changed. Maybe he was trying to quit… "Lookie here!" Mike shrugged out of the sleeves of his jacket and pointed at a gash going up the inside of his arm.

"My God!" Carol gasped, "What happened?"

"That's just the thing, Carol. I don't remember," his mouth turned upwards into a grin that startled Carol. He was something out of a horror film to her. All grinning evilly and as if that weren't enough, he started laughing!

"Mike…"

"Pretty neat-o, huh?"  
"No! It could be infected! What if you get hepatitis or some other disease?" Carol shouted at the brother she no longer knew.

"Disease? Carol, I'm a _walking _disease!"

"Mike…" Carol was cut short as Mike began to trace his finger along the congealed gash.

"That's what they do to you – the drugs. They make you forget."

"Why do you want to forget, Mike? What is it that has been so terrible that you want to forget?" Carol's voice was quickening and she prayed he would answer and let her in a little further to his life.

"**EVERYTHING**!" Make roared.

Carol jumped up from the bed and looked at him with fear in her eyes. This was not her brother. This was a monster who had taken his place.

"Mike…"

"Carolie, Carolie, Carolie," Mike cooed as he went to her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders tightly, "I didn't mean t' scare ya or anythin' it's just…well…"

"You lose control," Carol answered, knowing all to well this rehearsed speech of his.

"Yeah…" he nodded.

"I know," Carol nodded as well, "Look, I have to get ready for school."

"Always the good little student," Mike smiled at his sister – a smile that seemed almost familiar, almost like before.

"Always the troublemaker," Carol returned the smile before walking out of his bedroom and leaving him behind.


	3. Leaving

**Chapter Two: Leaving **

"Carol, you look just _awful_!" Carol's best friend, Melinda exclaimed upon meeting up by her locker, "What _happened_ to you?"

"Nothing, Melinda," Carol sighed as she stuffed a history book into her backpack, "I just didn't get much sleep last night. You know, stress of school and all. But I'll be fine. After this history test that is," Carol attempted a broken smile. She was actually starting to get used to the fake smiles, fake laughs, and fake normal life.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. So, did you hear that Mr. Lawrence is sick today so we have Mr. Spellman as a sub!"

Mr. Spellman was the young graduate student who was working his way through school by substituting at the local high schools. He had blonde hair and blue eyes and the most adorable freckles dotting his nose. He had subbed on-and-off again for the past year and all the girls swooned when they saw him walk past the halls. Even Carol let herself forget her past problems whenever she saw Mr. Spellman.

"Good," Carol smiled, "I need a break from the mediocrity of my life."

"Oh it isn't_ that_ bad," Melinda laughed.

Trust me, Carol thought to herself, it is.

"So," Carol cleared her throat, "What did you do last night?"

"Homework – studied for history most of the time. You?"

"Nothing much," Carol shrugged. She didn't dare tell anyone about Mike but it wasn't like they didn't know. She noticed the way her teachers sent her apologetic looks and the way Mike's old friends would say hi to her in the halls or send her broken smiles. They all knew of their cracked lives, broken hearts, and shattered home; it wasn't like Carol had to announce it – she wore the sorrow on her face despite the masqueraded smiles and self-assuring words.

"How is he?" Melinda asked the dreaded question. Carol closed her eyes and shoved her backpack over her shoulder. What was she supposed to say to that? She longed to say that Mike was better, that he had actually come home last night, and how he had finally agreed to quit this live he had been living but she couldn't.

Instead, she answered, "Oh, I don't."

"You don't?"

"I haven't talked to him in a while," Carol answered. It wasn't exactly a lie. After all, she and Mike hadn't really talked for years. As she spoke, a memory flashed through her head of a little girl sitting down at the kitchen table across from her big brother, two cups of milk and a bag of Oreos in between them. It was a ritual, they would both wake up in the middle of the night and come downstairs to talk. Now, Carol couldn't recall what their conversations had been about but it didn't matter. None of that mattered. It was no longer a memory but rather someone else's dream of a once-happy life.

"Oh," Melinda nodded before changing the subject, "So, are you ready for English?"

"English?"

"Yeah. It's the class Mr. Spellman is substituting for."

"Oh, yeah. I'm ready."

The bell interrupted their dull conversation and the two girls began to head to their first period English class. As Carol headed upstairs, someone passed her in a brown jacket and a sunken look. Mike. Carol felt her heart skip a beat with hope. So he had come today after all! Maybe for once he was getting better. Maybe he was turning his life back around.

"Mike!" Carol called but he didn't hear – or if he did, he didn't act like it.

"Carol," Melinda looked apologetically towards her best friend, "Just be glad he's here."

"That's about all I have to be glad about," Carol sighed and followed Melinda to their classroom.

Once inside, they took their assigned seats right next to each other. Mr. Spellman was standing at the board writing down the day's assignment. Carol pushed a stray hair behind her ear as she thought about how Mike had just ignored her as if she was nothing to him, and maybe she was. After all, when was the last time they had ever been as close as they once were? When was the last time he had actually been a brother to her? Now the only brother she had was Ben, not that she regretted that at all, she just missed Mike more than anyone could ever know. He had once been her best friend and now…now he was almost dead to her. The bell tolled, shaking all thoughts of the brother she once had. Her attention was turned to Mr. Spellman. He had stopped writing and was now beginning to address the class.

"Alright everyone, those that don't know me, I'm Mr. Spellman and I am a grad student. I sub to work my way through school. I will be subbing for Mr. Lawrence today. He left you guys an assignment so no free-period. I'm sorry," he smirked, knowing students all too well, "But the assignment is something pretty enjoyable. You have to write a novella about your family. Your novella should be at least ten typed pages and turned in by Friday. You can get started on it right now if you'd like."

Several kids scoffed but Carol pulled out her English notebook and a pen. She might as well get this over with. Quickly, she began to scribble:

_My name is Carol Elizabeth Seaver and I have a pretty average family. My mother is a news anchor and my father is a therapist. They have pretty average jobs and live pretty average lives and have a pretty successful, average marriage. I have two siblings – Ben and Mike. Ben is your regular little brother, always up to some trouble yet always able to smile and get out of it. He is really sweet and can always make anyone laugh, no matter how tough our lives can be and I can assure you, they get pretty tough. My life is also pretty normal. I am a junior in high school and want to become an editor for a big-name publishing company. I love to write and it is a release for me and trust me, some days I really need a release. The only un-average thing about our lives is Mike. Michael Christopher Seaver is the only one that differentiates us from other average families. You see, Mike is no longer with us. I was a freshman when it happened._

_We were on a family vacation and we were all swimming in the lake. Mike, being his usual self, wanted to see how long he could hold his breath underwater. He lasted a while – too long of a while. He never came up for breath. My dad tried to save him. He did everything he knew how to do but it was too late. Mike had drowned in the dark, murky water. It had consumed him, taken him over, and ripped him out of our lives forever._

_Mike used to be one of my best friends. I remember a time where we could share things and talk and be best friends. He was the only one I could count on, the only one I could truly share things with. I could tell him things I didn't dare tell anyone – not my parents and not even my best friends. Mike listened and he vowed to make whatever problem I was having, better. Unfortunately, he can't make this better. He can't suddenly come back from the dead, break through the murky water, free himself from the darkness below. He isn't a savior, nor a Christ – though when I was young, that is what I saw him as. No matter how many candles I blow out on birthday cakes, no matter how many pennies I toss into the fountain, I know my dream can never come true…_

"I can't believe you are actually doing this assignment!" Melinda rolled her eyes, clearing disgusted.

"Why not? Might as well get it over with."

"Yeah but still…can I read it?"

"Sure," Carol handed over the paper and watched as Melinda's eyes skimmed the paper.

"But…Mike didn't drown."

"It's a metaphor, Melinda."

"Oh!"

Carol took the paper back and reread it. Now she only needed ten more pages.

The rest of the day seemed to drag on an on until lunch. After getting her tray of food, Carol found Mike sitting alone at a table near the back. She shot a pleading look to Melinda who nodded for her to go over and attempt to talk to him. Silently praying with each step, Carol made her way over to the table.

"Hi there," Carol sat down across from him, "Aren't you going to eat?"

"Not hungry," he mumbled, not meeting her gaze.

"Mike…talk to me."

"Alright. About what?"

"About you. You're scaring me, Mike."

"Carol," Mike sighed, looking down at his hands, "I-I never meant to hurt you."

"Then why are you doing this!"

"I-I don't mean to do this to you, Carol. I'm doing this to me."

"But why?"

"I-I don't want to talk about this with you. But I do want you to know that I never want to hurt you."

"But you are."

"But I don't want to."

"Then stop. You can quit this, you know?"

"Sure, but what if I'd rather _it_ quit _me_?"

"You don't mean that!"

"Of course I do, Carol. You're the smart one, answer me this, what would you live for if there was nothing worth living for?"

"Mike…what about your family? What about _me_?"

"Carol…"

"It's like I-I no longer have a brother."

"That's not true!"

"You know it's true, Mike," Carol sighed, knowing she was defeated.

"I do still…love you."

"If you loved me, you'd quit."

"Carol…that's not fair!"

"Neither is what you're putting me through!" Carol shouted before storming off, once again, leaving him behind.


	4. PB&O

Chapter Three

When Carol got in from school, Mike wasn't there. She hadn't figured that he would be but it was still a disappointment not to see him sitting at the table. With a frown, she tossed her coat on the hook before stomping upstairs to her bedroom. Her stomach began to growl but she silenced it. The mere thought of food had becoming sickening to her. How could Carol possibly be expected to eat when Mike was in such danger and no one was even paying any attention? She had become so immune to the pangs of hunger that she hardly felt a single thing except the incessant pang in her heart that had been there since Mike had first walked out.

Carol slumped onto her bed and opened up her Biology book. She hated osmosis and it made absolutely no sense to her. Normally school came easily to her but lately her grades had been slipping – not that her parents seemed to notice, or care. They might not appear to care what happened to Mike but they were worried – more so about him than her grades. Carol always made good grades. It was just something that was constant and unquestioning. No matter what, Carol would get good grades. She was the good child, the good student. They had never had problems with her so why now? After a few moments of reading over her notes, Carol slammed her book shut. It was no use. She would never understand any of it if she stared at the chapter for a million years. Suddenly, a door slammed shut and Carol jumped. Mike was home. He had actually come home tonight! Maybe things were looking up…

"Hello? Anyone home?" He called. Carol bit her lower lip as she stood behind her bedroom door. Should she say she was there or should she just go back to her pathetic attempts of learning osmosis? She chose the first.

"It's just me!" She called from her position behind the door. She listened intently as his footsteps fell upon each step, making his way up the stairs and to her bedroom. He actually knocked on the door which was impressive to Carol.

"Come in," She called, hurriedly moving away from the door and flinging herself back on the bed, amongst the papers and books.

"Hey!" Mike grinned as he sauntered through the door, "Homework?"

"Osmosis. It's terrible! I don't understand it at all!"

"What?" Mike smirked, "Perfect little Carol Seaver actually doesn't understand her homework?"

"Oh hush," Carol rolled her eyes, "It is possible for me not to be perfect."

"Doubt it," Mike grinned, "So, do you want to come downstairs. We can fix some peanut butter and Oreos."

It had always been a childhood treat of theirs. They would often sneak downstairs to munch on their "secret recipe" and just talk. They used to be able to tell each other everything. Now, things were different. Things had changed. Carol blinked at Mike, wondering what had come over him. Perhaps he was trying to make his comeuppance for earlier at school, earlier today.

"What do you say?" He pressed.

"Alright," Carol sighed, "I can go for some peanut butter Oreos right now."

"You look starved," Mike said as they began to make their way down the stairs and to the kitchen. So someone had noticed and the only someone Carol would have least expected. She blushed, not wanting her secret starvation to be known – especially to Mike. If he still had the devious Mike she used to know, he would probably blackmail her with it to get his way.

"Oh, I've just been busy," Carol shrugged off the comment.

"Hey," Mike grabbed her shoulder once they were downstairs, "What's up with you?"

"Nothing. I don't have to eat all the time to be normal Mike. If I recall correctly, you once called me a pig."

"Pig?" Mike looked confused, "Geek-face maybe and definitely nerdy-McNerd-face but I don't remember pig."

"Well I do," Carol's eyes fell to the ground as an awkward silence followed. Mike wanted to say something but didn't know where to begin. Had he really called her a pig?

"I-I had had a really bad day. David had just broken up with me and I didn't know what to do so I plopped myself down on the couch with a tub of Chocolate Bluebell and a 21 Jump Street rerun and just gorged. You came in and told me I was a fat pig and if I wanted, you'd put the ice cream in a trough for me."

"Ouch," Mike winced, following Carol into the kitchen, "Sorry about that."

"It doesn't matter now," Carol grabbed the bag of Oreo's off the top of the refrigerator and Mike got the peanut butter out. They sat across from each other at the kitchen table, their treat in between them.

"So, how was school?" Mike asked.

"Alright. We had to write a paper about our lives and our families in English. I think it was just busy work."

"What all did you write about?" Mike asked as he dipped an Oreo into peanut butter.

"Mom, dad, me, Ben, and you," Carol answered, following Mike's suit.

"I am sorry I haven't been around much," Mike mumbled around the Oreo in his mouth.

"Me too," Carol answered honestly, "You can stop you know. You can just come home and leave this behind you. No one will ever mention it again and it will be like it never even happened…"

"That's your solution to everything, isn't it?" Mike challenged, "Just forget these things ever happened! How can I when I wear the marks on my arm!" Mike extended his arm and scrunched up his long sleeve t-shirt, reveling scars from old and new needles.

"Mike," Carol gasped, "You must stop this!" Carol shouted.

"I can't."

"But you have to! Mike, I hear stories about addicts and…and I don't want to be stuck with only Ben for a brother!" Carol's heart was racing.

"I am not going to die, Carol. Some days I want to though. Some days I want to never wake up. But I can't do that to you guys. I can't put you through that pain."

"But you can put us through this pain?" Carol wasn't quite comprehending.

"This isn't about you, Carol," Mike whispered softly, "This is about me and only me."

"What did you do that could ever make you hate yourself so much?" Carol asked, unsure she wanted to know the answer.

"I lived," Mike smirked.

"Mike…" Carol bit her lower lip, "That was years ago."

"I don't care. I was the one who hit the tree. I was the one who was speeding. Not Michelle. Michelle didn't have to die. I should have."

"Mike," Carol put her hand on his, "Michelle's parents forgave you. You heard what they said during the trial: that you were a nice boy who just got into trouble one time. They didn't even bring up charges. The police wanted to but they said it wasn't necessary. They questioned you and you weren't drinking or anything. You were only five miles over the speed limit! You weren't trying to hurt anyone."

"But I did, Carol. I did and I can never take that back."

"Mike, what happened to Michelle was a tragedy and you have to move on. She wouldn't want you doing tis to yourself. She wouldn't want you…"

"Shut up!" Mike shouted, causing Carol's eyes to widen, "Look," he softened, "I am sorry Carol, I really am. But let's just please talk about something else – anything else – other than me right now. I will be fine. Trust me. You do trust me, right?" Mike raised an eyebrow. Carol didn't know how to answer that. There once was a time she trusted him but did she now? Did she trust him with the bloodshot eyes and needle wounds in his arm? Did she trust him at all?

"Mike…"

"It's a simple question, Carol. Do you trust me?"

"I try to," Carol answered honestly, "I do try to trust you."

"I guess I don't make the whole trust thing easy, do I?" Mike smirked.

"No," Carol smiled, "No you don't. It's almost four. Ben will be getting home from Jerry's house and Mom and Dad will be back by five. Ben misses you, Mike. You should take him out to the park and help him with his batting. This year's been tough on him. The new baseball coach doesn't seem as…gentle on him as Coach Phillips."

"Kid ought to bat better."

"Kid ought to have an older brother who's willing to show him how," Carol replied coolly.

"Touch!"

"Touch?" Carol raised an eyebrow.

"You know – that French word people say when they don't have a good comeback."

"You mean 'touché?'"

"Yeah, that one."

"Go out and practice with him," Carol said, screwing the lid back on the peanut butter, "It'd mean the world to him."

"Alright," Mike nodded, "I'll give it a try."

"Thank you," Carol smiled, standing from her chair.

"Hey!" Mike called, "We should do this more often."

"That'd require you to come home more."

"In that case, maybe I will."


End file.
